


blackened petals

by lionsenpai



Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard, Drakengard 3
Genre: Bad end, Body Horror, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionsenpai/pseuds/lionsenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of victory, Four goes to One to get her reward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blackened petals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zerrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/gifts).



> Part of a challenge to write bad ends for the sisters. As always, for Zerrat.

The leaves bother her. She picks at them relentlessly, plucking each one from the thick, gnarled bark tangled around her arms, growing black as charcoal but tough as steel. She hasn't worn her gloves in ages, but her nails are gone with her hands, covered in the flower's growths, made weapons in their own right. 

Four can't remember the last time she saw her skin. Probably around the time Zero came for her. 

"One?" she calls. Her sister didn't greet her at the door--how peculiar! "It's me! I sent letters."

The land of mountains has been celebrating for weeks, roasting animals over spitfires and dancing in the flicking lights, battle-drunk and blood-frenzied. She found a group of soldiers naked in the snow, their clothes littered about them in heaps and piles, their faces frozen in rictus grins. Decadus had them disposed of, but the bodies kept piling up. Too happy! They were useless, yet they celebrated all the same. She almost thought they deserved it, though she'd never voice such a thing. 

Four passes the great double doors of the cathedral's keep. Her sister reads here often, sometimes for weeks at a time. She must have sent away her retainers as well, lest why would it be so empty? If only she'd known, she would have prepared! A feast, a true coronation, crowning Four savior of the world. She would have honored her; she would have loved her.

But the honors will come later! She pulls at the leaves on the roots bracketing her torso, becoming one with her ribs. One won't like to see the growths--she never has to worry about them, and how lucky!--but Four knows it won't matter, not really. She picks up her gift, dusts the maggots from its craterous eyes, and hurries into the keep, humming. 

"One!" she tries again, taking the steps three at a time. 

Her voice echoes strangely off the walls, creeping through the long tunnels as whispers even long after she's spoken. Four catches herself glancing over her shoulder twice before laughing. What is there to fear?

One's library is the biggest part of the keep, buried deep beneath the surface and filled with old tomes, stacks of records from before the cataclysm that leveled Cathedral City the first time. She pushes open the doors and inhales the ages, locked between the pages of books older than living memory. It's a dreary place, but One has never had the sense to burn this place, reduce it to ash and start anew. Perhaps she'll listen to Four now. 

"One," Four chimes, beaming. "It's me, Four!"

Within the shelves and scrolls, she appears, her hand clutched to her chest, eyes red with sleeplessness. Her hair is a mess, not even combed, and she sucks in a deep breath at the sight of Four. She must be so proud--so, so proud.

Four skips to her, hiding her prize behind her back, but it swings with her motions, making meaty  _thwaps_  against the back of her thighs that leave a trail of black ichor behind her. Someone else will clean it up. One won't care once she sees. She'll run her fingers through Four's hair and let her know how well she's done, how she's so dependable. 

"Four," One chokes, taking in every inch of her. 

"Here." Four smiles and pulls out the gift, presenting it to One with two hands, smiling and flushed, the stems sprouting around her eyes framing her exuberance. 

The head has decayed, but it couldn't be helped. If she tarred it, One would have never believed she'd finished Zero. It rotted waiting for word from One, on her battle ships coming to the mountains to see the traitor's corpse. Four waited and waited, sent envoys and letters alike, but One did not come, and finally, she'd had to make the trip herself, and by that time the skin had begun to peel, turning yellow and brown and slewing off in foul shreds. She holds it by the hair to keep from touching the worst of it, but even that's beginning to decay, going brittle and falling out. 

It's barely recognizable if she's being honest, but One has to see. She has to  _see_.

"Four," One whispers. "What have you done?"

"What?" she asks, cocking her head. She carrying her chakram, gripping the black steel like a life line. Perhaps she still doesn't believe! "It wasn't hard, One! She came to me, after all. And I just--" She takes the head between her two, gnarled hands, and squeezes. It pops like an overripe grape, splattering black and yellow across the floors and on Four herself. "Did this. Over and over. It was so easy. And look! Look how strong my song has grown! I could even kill her dragon if it ever comes back."

One watches with wide eyes, looks as Zero's head slips between Four's fingers and drips to the ground. She's a pile of bits of skull and flesh, and belatedly, Four realizes she was supposed to keep the head. 

"Sorry," she says. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I killed her, One. It was so  _easy_."

One doesn't say anything, but her mouth slants strangely, her lips pressed tight together. She looks at Four like she's an unknown, not her sister, not the savior of the world. 

"Aren't you proud?" she presses, needing to hear it. 

"I'm so sorry, Four," One says. 

She lunges forward, chakram clutched in her hand, and swipes, slipping into Four's space faster than she would have thought possible. But Four sees her. She's not nearly as fast as Zero was, and her chakram is so thin, so fragile. 

Four blocks the slash aimed at her throat with a bark covered hand, catching the chakram before One can pull away, retreat. She plays at distances when she can't win up close. She's so versatile, something Four has always admired, always envied. Now she just seems... Desperate? 

It doesn't sit well in Four's stomach. 

"What are you doing?" she asks, squeezing the chakram's edge. 

One yanks, trying to free her weapon, but the metal groans, and her eyes go wide when it warps beneath Four's grip, folding in on itself. She'll never cut anyone with an edge like that. It's so useless. 

She never answers her, just opens her mouth and screams, the power of her song pulling the thin stems along her neck toward the surface. One has always had the most control of her song. It used to make Four so jealous, but why? The roots and stems surge along her arms as she takes holding of One's hand, crushing it. 

Her song stutters, but she doesn't stop. She screams until Four's ears ring and her body trembles with the power of it. If not for the sturdy wood encasing her ribs, her heart might have exploded, leaving a bloody mess right next to Zero's remains. 

"What are you doing?" Four ask again, squeezing until every bone in One's hand fractures. She can't even hear herself over One's song. "Aren't you proud? I did so well. What are you doing?  _What are you doing_?"

The buds along Four's shoulders hum with life, and she feels a dull buzz at the base of her skull. It drowns out the song, and laughter bubbles up from Four's throat, raw and sudden, nearly choking on it. This is her song? This is what she has? Four tears the chakram away from her sister, advancing on her in a blur of black and green and brown, and wraps her big hands around her head, her neck. She's so fragile. One's song drops off, and she touches Four's cheek with her good hand, eyes red and puffy. She and Zero always had the same eyes. It made her so  _angry_.

She smooths One's frazzled hair with her thumb, so gentle, so kind. A perfect sister. One never did that for her, but she was always so busy. Four has all the time to be the sister she needs. 

One doesn't say anything, just caresses the curve of Four's cheek, running her fingers over the scales of bark hardening beneath the sprouts. 

Maybe she was never the sister Four thought her. One always had words to make everything alright, always had a plan. No one could win against One, not even Zero, but Four could crush her like this. She squeezes a little, just to make sure, and One's face caves beneath her palm, the blood seeping into the tangled roots. 

"Oh no," Four says. It was only a test, only to check. Was she that weak? How could she break so easily. "I didn't mean to."

She pulls her hands back, and One's body drops to the floor, crushed skull hitting the stone with a soft  _thwap_. 

 _Just like Zero,_  Four thinks, watching the blood run across the floor, mingling with what's left of Zero.  _It was so easy._

Four stumbles forward, treading through the mess, and kneels over her sister's body, head bent as though in prayer. "I'm sorry," she says.

She knows it's a lie the moment it leaves her lips. 

"Why weren't you proud of me? You never said you were proud of me--never, never,  _NEVER._ " She slams her clenched fist into One's still body, and her hips and spine crunch. "I did everything, all for you, always for you. You never thanked me even though I tracked down rebels and protected the mountains and did  _all your fucking dirty work_!" She raises her fists and brings them down again, crushing her ribs and breaking her neck. "I just wanted to hear it! Just once!"  _Thwump, thwump, thwump. "_ I--" _Thwump._  "HATE--"  _Thwump._  "YOU!"

She's screaming before she realizes it, and the power of her power rocks the ancient shelves. They topple around her, crashing to the floor like trees and dumping mountains of old texts across the room. Her song reverberates off the walls, and even the stones tremble before her power. 

"Never, never, you never said it, never praised me!" The thing before her has ceased to be her sister, but the blood continues to leak from it. Her leaves and buds shiver with delight, standing at attention. "I deserved it! I killed Zero! I did what no one else could! Why didn't you praise me, why didn't you--"

Everything stops. Four goes still, arms raised over her head, her sister's blood trickling down toward her, and the buzzing in her head grows louder. She feels a breeze, but there's no wind. For some reason, she's crying, and more than anything, she wants One. All of the buds along her arms and shoulders and chest and neck bloom at once, pink petals twisting from the green sprouts, and something like agony fills her up inside until she's overflowing with it, her song shattering the library, power and volume growing every second. 

The flower blooms amidst Cathedral City, worming up through the ground and opening in a grand display. It grows and grows until it towers over everything and then it grows even bigger. Its petals stretch to the ends of the world, and finally, it closes in on itself, swallowing everything.


End file.
